


A comforting emotion

by electricpixie



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Johnlock - Freeform, Kissing, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-08
Updated: 2013-08-08
Packaged: 2017-12-22 20:31:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,048
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/917719
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/electricpixie/pseuds/electricpixie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Sherlock and John meet Moriarty at the pool, Sherlock realizes how much he really does care about John, though he has some initial problems figuring out his feelings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A comforting emotion

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment or give me feedback, it would be very helpful. Thanks, guys (:

  
John and Sherlock trodded up the stairs to their flat. John started for the kitchen, but Sherlock offered to make the tea.  
Surprised, John let himself fall into his chair.  
  
Sherlock stood in the kitchen with his back to  John and started the water boiling. He needed time to get his head on straight. It was almost one o´clock in the morning, they had just met James Moriarty at the pool.  
 It wasn´t even his near death experience that was bothering him so much, it was something Moriarty had said.  
When Sherlock had told him he doesn´t have a heart, Moriarty had replied: “We both know that´s not quite true.”  
And the worst thing was, Moriarty was right.  
  
That was the moment Sherlock had realised just how much he cared about John. For two seconds he imagined what his life would be like if anything were to happen to John. But he stopped as soon as he began, the idea was too painful for his brain to handle.  
  
He examined his consience further. What did he really feel for John? Why did he feel like this? He wasn´t very surprised to find it was more than friendship.  
Sherlock had never really loved anyone and he now discovered it to be quite a comforting emotion, kowing that John would always be there for him and at his side.  
But John only saw them as friends. At the most.  
  
The small smile that had been creeping up Sherlock´s face disappeared again. John would never feel the same way about him. And he was decidedly straight. Sherlock had lost count of how many times John had corrected people when they had assumed they were a couple.  
So Sherlock decided the best thing to do would be to ignore it. He had never loved anybody, he still didn´t need to. And he still had the best friend in the world. He would content himself with that.  
  


John was watching Sherlock in the kitchen, There was something the matter with him, that much he was sure of. Sherlock´s normally steady and graceful movements were just slightly clipped. Anybody else wouldn´t have noticed, but John had lived with him for long enough now that he noticed this little change immediately.  
  
But not only his unusual movements were disturbing John. Sherlock was smiling to himself. John saw it when he turned around to get something out of the cupboard. But when he finally came into the living room with the tea the smile had completely vanished again.  
  
Sherlock sat down and put the tray on the table between them. Then he placed his palms together and rested his chin on his fingertips like he so often did when he was thoughtful.  
  
John tried to start the conversation. “So what are we going to do now…about Moriarty, I mean?”  
Sherlock was distracted. “About wha- oh, Moriarty. We wait.”

“We wait? Sherlock, he could be doing anything out there.”  
  
“What would you suggest we do, John? This is Moriarty, not just some random serial killer.”  
  
John didn´t reply. He really didn´t know what he had been expecting Sherlock to do. He had just thought he would pluck something out of his brilliant head again and fix everything. Like he always did.  
  
Sherlock may be hard to live with sometimes and have some very, very annoying habits, but it was still absolutely fantastic to be around him. John didn´t think he would ever really get used to Sherlock´s mind blowing deductions. From the very beginning he had been awed by them and it still gave him a little thrill every time would look at someone and rattle off their entire story.  
  
When John looked up he found Sherlock gazing at him intently. What was he thinking about? Sometimes he really wished he could see into that brilliant mind.  
  
Sherlock blinked and looked away.  
  
John yawned and got up. “Well if you don´t mind, I would like to get some sleep now, it´s been quite an eventful evening.”  
  
“In that case, good night. “  
  
“Good night, Sherlock. And try not to get to bed too late, even _you_ need at least a little sleep.”  
  
“No, I don´t. “  
  
“Your choice.” John said as he headed up the stairs.  
  
In his own room at last, he got undressed quickly and fell onto his bed, going to sleep almost immediately.

  
Sherlock didn´t end up going to bed until it was almost 4 am. He had stayed in his chair for a while, then started relentlessly pacing the room. All the while trying to get his mind to focus on Moriarty, but failing miserably. His thoughts kept returning to John and his pushed aside feelings. He knew John had caught him staring at him before announcing he was going to bed.  
  
Eventually Sherlock had to go to his mind palace. There he built a nice little room for John and put a small wooden box in the middle of it. Into it he deposited these _emotions_ and then proceeded to work on Moriarty.  
  
This almost worked for a while, but at some point he had to give in. Therefore he chose to go to bed, so that he wouldn´t have to think about any of it anymore.

  
John slept late the next day. When he woke up, clear morning sunlight was already being sifted through the lacy curtains and he could hear the busy city outside.  
  
He opened his window and breathed in the fresh air. He stood there, hands planted on the windowsill, thinking about the night before. Why had Sherlock been acting slightly different? It must have had something to do with the encounter at the pool.  
  
Then he remembered the surgery. Shit. The little clock on the night stand told him he should have been there over an hour ago.  
  
But he really didn´t want to go today. Shouldn´t a person get to take the next day off after almost being blown to smithereens?  
  
He decided to just text Sarah and tell her he was sick. She could pick her bone with him later if she liked.  
  
Since he wasn´t going anywhere now, John figured he could take a nice long shower.

On his way to the bathroom he peeked into Sherlock´s room. A grin spread across John´s face when he saw his flatmate.  
  
Sherlock was lying face down, on the middle of his bed. His long pale limbs were splayed across the entire matress and his head was a mess of tousled black curls. A few long white fingers were wrapped around the pillow next to his head, while his blanket had fallen off the bed completely.  
  
John just watched him for a bit. He let his eyes rove over the immaculate skin, the slightly parted lips. Then he realised what he was doing.  
This was Sherlock for crying out loud. He was not allowed to be thinking these things about him.  
  
Quickly he turned around again and closed the door quietly. He then proceeded to have his long shower.

  
“He emerges at last.”  
  
Sherlock watched John saunter into the room.  
  
“Yes, yes he does.”  
  
“Not going to the surgery today?” he asked absentmindedly as he leafed through the paper.  
  
“I figured I´d earned a day off.”  
  
“Well I´m glad you stayed.”  
  
“Really? Why?”  
  
Sherlock looked up from his paper. “No particular reason,  I suppose I just enjoy your…company?”  
  
“That´s nice to know, I guess.”

  
That day passed more smoothly than other usual days.  
  
Sherlock was behaving as normal as was possible for him, they only had a small squabble about Sherlock using the dishes in his experiments again.  
  
Sherlock cleaned the mess up and went straight to his room.  
  
John stayed at the desk and wrote up their encounter with Moriarty. But he didn´t publish this story on the blog, he saved it off in his personal documents, this was something he wasn´t allowed to forget anytime soon. Not that he would forget it, he just needed it to be written down exactly, in every little detail.  
  
An hour later Sherlock came back, but he stopped and stood in the middle of the room. John looked up from his laptop. Sherlock was looking at him, his eyes unfocused, like he could see right through him.  
  
John kept working. By this point he didn´t even react to Sherlock´s strange quirks anymore.  
  
“John, I… uhm…”

“What is it?”  
  
Sherlock hesitated. “Nevermind.”  
  
Then he walked off again, toward the hall.  
  
John got up and followed him. This was too strange even for Sherlock. He just wasn´t acting right. What was wrong with him?  
  
Sherlock turned on his heel suddenly. He laid his flat palm on John´s chest. All John could think about was the warm touch seeping through his sweater.  
  
Slowly, Sherlock pushed John back against the wall. Inch by inch, he leaned down until his lips were centimeters from John’s.  
  
Too many thoughts were flying through John’s head. He couldn’t make sense of any of them. But it never accured to him to move away, to slip under Sherlock’s arm and get out of there.  
  
At that moment, all he wanted was to close the gap between them and melt into Sherlock.  
  
Without knowing why the hell he was doing this, he stood up on his tip toes and eliminated the remaining space between their lips.

 Sherlock was slightly surprised by this, but very pleased nevertheless.

Immidiately he brought his hands to the back of John’s neck while gently starting to kiss him.

John didn’t seem to want gentle though, as he soon had his fingers in Sherlock’s curls. Sherlock reacted to this by grabbing both John’s hands and pinning them up on the wall above his head. He then pressed the entire length of his body up againt John’s so that he could feel every inch of him. Their bodies were moving in sync now and Sherlock’s lips were getting even hungrier and more urgent on John’s.

This however made John hesitate.

What was he doing? Why was he snogging his flatmate senseless? His very _male_ flatmate?

_I’m not gay_ , he thought to himself.

_Apparently you are_ , a mocking voice responded in his head. _You’ve been lying to yourself just as much as you have been to everyone else, John. Really think about it. Did you really have fun with those women?_

_Yes_ , he stubbornly replied, but in his heart he knew it wasn’t true. Whenever he had been out on a date, he could never stop thinking about Sherlock, sitting alone at home. He only went on the occasional date with someone else because he felt like he was supposed to.

“John.”

John looked up into Sherlock’s gorgeous bright eyes, framed by the deep black of long sweeping lashes.

He didn’t even know what this thing with Sherlock was. He couldn’t call call it love. But it wasn´t pure lust either. It was more like a fervent need. He needed Sherlock like he needed the air to breathe. He didn´t even care about the gay thing anymore. Only Sherlock mattered.

“Are you finally done?” Sherlock looked amused.

“With what?”

“Talking to yourself.”

“I was doing that out loud?” A deep blush crept up his cheeks.

“No, no. I just know the expression on your face. You always look like that when you’re having an internal debate.”

A slight tingle of relief washed over John. It would have been too awkward if Sherlock knew what was going through his mind.

Suddenly, he was very aware of Sherlock’s body pressing him into the wall. And nothing was important anymore. Only the reality of Sherlock’s closeness.

He pulled Sherlock down close again, his lips demanding, whilst resting one hand on his chest.

A deep rumbling noise made itself known under John’s palm, making desire flare up inside him with sudden heat. He wanted this. He wanted it now.

He slipped his hand into Sherlock’s lightly and pulled away. But Sherlock already knew what John wanted. He let himself be drawn into the bedroom, his longing just as intense as John’s, kicking the door shut behind them.

 


End file.
